


half of my heart is in havana

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon), sharpshooting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, flirty pidge, that one 'they grew up hot oh no' trope i don't know the name of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharpshooting/pseuds/sharpshooting
Summary: After years away from the team with the Blade of Mamora, Keith is surprised to see how things have changed.Surprised, and, well...





	half of my heart is in havana

**Author's Note:**

> landing-amongst-the-planets asked:  
> So I was wondering if you could write something for “We probably shouldn’t be doing this here” for Romantic Kidge?

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this here,” Keith said as Pidge gently pushed him back onto the couch.

She’d gotten taller since he’s last seen her—she _looked_ older too, her golden eyes settled into her face and jaw sharper—so when she settled herself on his lap, her nose was a good inch or two over his.

“That’s probably true,” she agreed, and then pulled the tie out of his hair. _“Man_ , you need a trim or something.”

It was utterly bizarre hearing her signature acerbic practicality in those low, rolling, contralto tones. She’d grown up (very _up_ ) in the five years he’d been gone, and he was still reeling over it, a little bit.

Who on earth decided Pidge should be a _girl?_

That was more-or-less a general gripe with the whole wide world—because thick eyelashes and a soft pout and shouldn’t make his heart hammer like that, and the kid who’d been his crafty little _amoeba_ sibling certainly shouldn’t be the one in possession of them—but it felt a lot more personal when she was inches away and frowning at a lock of his hair.

“Okay so _basically_ ,” she mumbled to herself, undoing the clasps on his top, her skinny legs clamped on either side of his hips, “I just need to administer the antidote, and you’re good to go.”

“Do you need to be so _close?”_ Keith grumbled, terrified she was going to notice the way his cheeks were coloring. “Someone’s going to get the wrong idea.”

“What idea?” she asked, deliberately innocent. She ran a finger down his chest, mischevious smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Who’d think that about _us?”_

 _Me,_ Keith didn’t say, and subsided in bad grace.

The antidote was painless—there wasn’t even a needle, just a patch, she could have done this _anywhere,_ he swore to god—and he was just considering trying to manhandle her off of him before their position became a capital-P Problem when she kissed the junction between his jaw and his neck and nearly sent him into _cardiac arrest_.

“Good boy,” she praised, cheerfully ignoring that she was probably putting him much closer to death that he’d been before the antidote.

_“Wha—”_

She grinned and hopped off his lap. “Gotta get the blood flowing, you know!”

“You—!!”

This new version of Pidge did _not_ run off cackling gleefully, but instead stood around and dealt with her flirtations like an _adult_ or something.

“Glad to have you back, Keith.”

Keith groaned, face on fire, and mumbled back, “Good to _be_ back. Thanks, Pidge.”


End file.
